


As People We Forgot

by scottie994



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Drama, F/M, Friendship/Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5959312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottie994/pseuds/scottie994
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are ghosts in their shadows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I have no business posting another chapter fic right now but fuck it I'm gonna do it anyway because I have no self control. This was originally a one-shot that came out of nowhere, but then I started writing an outline for it and it was gonna get really fucking long. So now I'm breaking it up into little chapters and expanding on it a little more than originally planned. Fun fun. Let's hope I can keep up with it (I have like 20 chaps mapped out, so I have a bit of a head start).
> 
> Suggested tunes as of now: Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl by Broken Social Scene and This Modern Love by Bloc Party. I'll probably eventually make a playlist for this on my tumblr like I did for other fics because I'm too fucking obsessed with playlists it isn't even fit.
> 
> Anyway, hope you like~!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. / Titled after lyrics from the song Appreciation by Jimmy Eat World.

 

The sweater she'd borrowed from Hisagi was completely soaked by the time she got to the bus stop, the already too large hoodie now uncomfortably damp and heavy as it hung from her shoulders, the shape of her body barely visible. She caught her breath as she stood in the small glass shelter on the sidewalk, shifting her weight from one foot to another as she tried to maintain her balance and causing the drenched soles of her sneakers to squish and squeak.

The night had been all warm air and clear skies when she'd left for the party, totally unexpectant of the horrid downpour that would ensue just a few hours later as she left her apartment wearing just jeans and a thin long sleeved shirt. She'd been too drunk and unprepared, her thought process irrational when she'd grabbed a random sweater from the laundry room and sprinted out into the rain, not bothering to stop when her friends shouted after her. What they'd said, she had no idea.

She felt hot and humid, the layers of damp fabric beginning to stick uncomfortably to her body. There was a rip in the knee of her jeans from when she fell, and she cursed the month of April vindictively.

She was combing dank stringy locks of hair behind her ears when she heard the sound of hurried footsteps on pavement, splashing harshly in the accumulating puddles as they drew nearer. She stepped to the side warily when a tall figure entered the shelter, long and lanky limbs fixing themselves next to her. She struggled to keep her eyes trained on her feet, her fingers latched onto the drawstring of her hoodie and pulling the ends back and forth restlessly.

The figure next to her shifted awkwardly, a grunt sounding low and dry, and she couldn't help looking up at the stranger. He was practically a giant from her perspective, so tall he had to hunch his shoulders, even then only getting about two inches of space between his head and the roof's underside. She noted the bright orange hair that stuck out from beneath his hood, a deep frown marring his narrow face and his downcast amber eyes glinting in the beam of streetlights. It sent her mind reeling, and she relaxed slightly when she realized she knew him. Kind of, anyway. She'd sat behind him in class for the entirety of the last school year, and she'd always ended up eyeing him up and down the field at soccer games that she was forced to attend with her friends.

Kurosaki Ichigo, she recalled miraculously. Though she was certain he would've been completely overlooked if it hadn't been for his unconventional appearance.

"Hey."

He stiffened instantly at her voice, casting a surprised glare to his right. He hadn't even realized anyone else was there. The girl was no stranger though, he discerned easily, her too big and too vivid eyes having met his in passing through school hallways and dimlitted parties, remarkably hued and unforgettable. But they also tread in different crowds, having condemned her to peripheral memories.

Kuchiki… _something,_ he remembered half-heartedly. He'd never been very good with names. Or at least he told himself so.

"Hey."

She smiled, the black makeup smudged under her eyes becoming even more poignant as her cheeks swelled. His frown subsided only slightly, and he found himself staring at her for longer than was appropriate.

It was the first time they'd actually spoke to each other.

"Whatcha doin' out so late?" she slurred airily, her body leaning too far to the side and causing her to teeter on the spot. He eyed her carefully.

"Could ask you the same," he replied dryly, not offering much of a tone as he cast a look across the street. "I was working, if you have to know."

She half-nodded, her head bobbing up once and holding it's crane.

"Were you at Hisagi's party?" He questioned aptly, noting that the school-famous party host lived just a few blocks away, along with the fact that she was wearing a sweater three times her size that said 'Hisagi' on the back of it along with his jersey number, _69_.

"Hm?" She blinked dazedly, her eyes slow to meet his again. "Oh," she laughed once, more like a hiccup. He'd never taken her for a drinker. "Yeah, I was."

He cast his eyes to the ground absentmindedly, scratching his temple. He felt odd. "Did I miss anything?"

A slight frown graced her lips, musing an answer. "Nothing extraordinary," she decided in short. "Lots of people making out and throwing up, as usual. _You_ were sincerely missed, though. I heard many complaints of your absence."

Ichigo grimaced. His popularity was perplexing.

"Wow," she teased, staring up at him pointedly. "And to think I wondered what all the fuss was about. I mean, you're _so_ lively."

He glared at her, and she only laughed more. The sound of it resonated in his chest, and his glare grew soft and dense at the shock of it.

"Oh!" She damn near croaked, her body tensing up in surprise as she noticed the approaching bus. He held back when he realized it wasn't the bus he was waiting for, giving her room to exit the stuffy shelter. She shot him a meek smile as she brushed past him, nodding a silent goodbye before heading towards the awaiting bus, her arms spread out at her sides in a clear attempt to balance herself.

Ichigo stared after her, watching with outward indifference as she boarded the bus, taking a seat near the front. She caught his gaze once more before he had chance to look away, her violet depths piercing him studiously through the foggy windows, bright and intriguing. They pulled him forward as the bus shuddered to a start, departing down the road hurriedly, and his gaze latched onto its rear lights inattentively.

An odd feeling spurred in his chest as the bus disappeared from his view, hitting him hard in the pit of his stomach and dusting his cheeks with a faint but distinctive tinge.

He wasn't sure, but it felt significant.


	2. two

"Yeah, I know her." Renji said simply, wincing as he stretched a slightly swollen arm to grab the mesh bag of soccer balls from a large cart. He'd begun getting solid black tribal tattoos done up along his arms and chest since the beginning of the year, much to the query of his friends and the dismay of his teachers. It appeared he'd gotten more done over the weekend. "She and I used to be friends when we were in primary school, but she moved away kind of abruptly the summer before junior high. I haven't really talked to her since she got back last year."

The redhead looked at his friend then, skeptical, carelessly chucking the bag of soccer balls towards him. "Why's Rukia such a sudden concern to you, anyway?"

Ichigo nearly toppled over, staggering back a couple steps as he tried to gain hold of the bag and his bearings.

"No reason," he muttered flatly, heaving the mesh sack over his shoulder with a deep grunt. He forced indifference, as though she hadn't frequented his thoughts all weekend, like her impossibly violaceous eyes hadn't been basking in the vacancies of his mind every goddamn minute since they'd met, vivid and unrelenting. It sent his blood hot through his veins. "And I'm not 'concerned' about her in the slightest," he added for good measure, lying through gritted teeth with an appropriate grimace as he picked up a stack of pylons with his free hand and headed out of the equipment shed.

"If you say so," Renji sighed densely, slinging a second bag of soccer balls over his shoulder and grabbing a stack of pylons as well before following his friend out to the field.

The rest of the team had already begun to arrive once they got back, all pale and sluggish beneath the dark, cloudy sky. The day was muggy and overcast, threatening to continue the downpour from the weekend, and with the knowledge of how disgustingly sweaty he was bound to be after the always too aggressive practice regimen, Ichigo welcomed it desperately.

Setting the pylons down on the grass and letting the bag of soccer balls slip off his shoulder with a lazy thud, Ichigo went for his duffelbag that was sitting on the sideline bench, rummaging through it momentarily for his nearly empty water bottle.

"I'm gonna go fill up," he said to no one in particular, heading off across the field towards the school buildings.

"Be hasty about it," Renji called after him. "Unless you want that lunatic Kenpachi to rip your head off for being late. _Again._ "

Ichigo smirked to himself, a sear of spite lining his lips. Coach Kenpachi Zaraki was a force to be reckoned with, as well as hated by all. Ichigo figured the man just hadn't been hugged enough as a child. He pitied him.

The school's air conditioning was weak, and he tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his hoodie as he trekked through the halls, dead-set on the one and only fountain in the entire school that actually gave cold water, even if it took him several minutes and would surely make him late getting back to practice. He figured it would be worth it in the end, taking a fortifying gulp of the icy liquid as he retraced his steps back from the fountain to the nearest exit to the field, his gaze straying to each and every clock on the walls as he passed. One minute late, one lap. Two minutes late, two laps. He gripped the cold exterior of his bottle as he picked up his pace, his cleat ridden feet heavy and loud against the linoleum.

The light tapping of fast footsteps that echoed from an oncoming adjacent corridor were distant and lost on him as he hurried along, all consumed in his quest to get back to practice as quickly as possible up until an exceptionally small figure crashed into him and pushed him sideways, leading him to stagger into the wall. He threw a glare over his shoulder just in time to see one Kuchiki Rukia slip backwards and fall on the floor with an ass bruising thud.

"Tss… _d_ _ammit_." Her face scrunched up in pain as a hand moved to rub her now aching backside, her violet eyes fierce as she shot him a glare. "Oi, can you watch where the hell– Oh, Kurosaki… It's just you."

He felt a chronic scowl twist his features, and she merely smiled, a slight turn up at the corner of her lips as she struggled to her feet, smoothing her skirt out briefly before she looked at him again. She tucked her hair behind one ear as if on reflex, the act of it rather timid. "Sorry, I was in a rush."

"It's fine," he muttered grumpily. "I was too."

His frown faltered as her smile persisted, so slight and powerful, and he wrapped his hand around the back of his neck distractedly. The air was sweltering.

"Oh!" she croaked suddenly, and he caught a light in her eye as she squatted down beside her bookbag on the floor and began rummaging through it haphazardly. She had to have had an entire library in there. "While I have you here maybe you can do me a favour…"

He stared at her heatedly, the clock on the wall behind him ticking loudly in his ears, counting lap after lap, and he flexed his fingers impatiently at his side. He cursed himself for being so damn uppity about his water supply. "Er… I'm already late for practice, so–'

"Here." Springing back to her feet, she promptly held a thick black bundle of cloth out for him, gleaming up at him expectantly. "Could you give this to Hisagi for me?"

Frowning, Ichigo grabbed the bundle of cloth probably too rashly, turning it over in his grasp. Upon quick inspection, he recognized it as the sweater she'd been wearing the other night at the bus stop.

"I kind of took it without asking," Rukia explained needlessly, heaving her bookbag onto her shoulders once again with no lack of struggle. She very nearly stumbled sideways. "I'm too embarrassed to give it to him in person."

"Okay," he deadpanned. Far too blunt and he knew it.

She stared at him for a rather stunted moment, her eyes dimming as if she were annoyed, and he felt a groan bubble up in his throat. _Why the fuck am I like this._

"Okay… Well, thanks." Promptly turning on her heel, Rukia began a light trek down the hallway he'd just come from, her arms crossing over her chest in what she'd outright deny was dissatisfaction.

_He's so fucking weird._


	3. three

It was the first game of the season, and just like every game night of the previous year, Rukia sat huddled on crowded bleachers between her two closest friends.

Despite her complete and utter lack of enthusiasm for any sport whatsoever, she hadn't especially minded in the beginning when they'd show up out of the blue and drag her back to school to watch the games. She was newly moved back to town, stuck in a class of people she’d never met before, and just slightly desperate for companionship, and so she’d created a self-imposed obligation to bend to the whims of her new friends lest they think her the lame introvert she truly was, or worse that she didn't cherish their friendship.

However, that was over a year ago now, and under the protection of their since deeply formed bonds she was far less hesitant to show her true colours and voice her complaints. It was cold, and damp, and she could not give any less of a fuck about soccer.

“Why are we here again?” Rukia groaned, mustering her best pout before she turned to the strawberry-blonde beside her.

Rangiku glanced up from her phone with clearly divided attention, throwing her friend a dull look. “What else would you be doing right now?”

“Oh, I don’t know, enjoying myself maybe.” Rangiku rolled her eyes, melting Rukia’s face into a frown. “C’mon, Ran. We come to every one of these stupid school games and events and they all blow. I _just_ wanna stay home for once, is that too much to ask?”

“Yes.” The other girl replied blankly, hosting all the conviction in the world. “Your apartment is gloomy as hell, Rukia. I’ll be damned if I let you hole yourself up there every weekend eating nothing but junk and frying your brain with T.V.”

“Ughhhhhhhh.”

“You’ll thank me one day,” the blonde chimed airily, turning her attention back to her phone.

“Right. I’ll be sure to text you my thanks bright and early tomorrow when I wake up with pneumonia.” With her mutterings gone purposely ignored, Rukia scrunched up her face with purpose and turned on the boy to her right. “This is all your fault.”

Toushiro’s eyes didn’t deviate from the game before them, but they twinkled in accordance to his smirk. “I come to these things because of my reputation as the oh so social Student Council President. What I don’t do, however, is invite you guys along with me.” The dark haired girl just glared. “Just watch the game, Rukes. It’s almost over anyway.”

Rukia huffed, reluctantly turning her attention to the field while she crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to stop shivering. She was too lazy to follow the game itself, not knowing how it’s actually played making it rather difficult to pay attention, and as a result she found herself intermittently glancing towards their school’s renowned goalkeeper, his bright orange hair only more vivid and demanding of attention within the fog. Soon enough she was just staring, taking the chance that he and everyone else were too focused on the game to notice.

It was when the clock was counting down the final minute that it began to rain again, a loud crack of thunder giving just a moment’s warning before it started to pour. A home win was guaranteed by the scoreboard, but everyone held their breath in those final seconds all the same, dozens of eyes on the soaring soccer ball as it flew in a final attempt from the guest team to score at least one more goal.

And of course, Karakura High’s superstar goalie deflected it with absolute ease. Everyone stood up and cheered as the final buzzer rang, tallying yet another victory for their school. Rukia unwittingly lingered as the crowd began to bustle away around her, allowing her friends a head start and leaving them to eventually stop and look back in confusion, while she just stared out at the field.

While the team cheered and high-fived in their predictable glory, mingling with several peers and parents, the should-be-proudest-of-them-all stood on the outskirt as if a stranger, his bright orange head tilted back as he frowned at the sky. Rukia felt her heart skip and sink at the sight of him, her chest swelling deep with pity.

He looked so empty.

…

 

Hot chocolate burned through her body with remedy just twenty minutes later, relaxing her shivers with every long drag she took. She’d taken an armchair at the back corner of the cafe, a book open in her lap as she sat slumped with her legs hanging over the side, feeling perfectly content despite being half soaked and not yet home. 

The small cafe was crowded almost exclusively with students, and naturally her friends had dispersed not long after their arrival, unintentionally getting dragged into conversations with random peers. Rukia hardly minded, though. This gave her some time to catch her breath and replenish her social energy, of which was never very high to begin with.

She’d drank two hot chocolates and read nearly five chapters of her book before her phone chimed a familiar tone, and she barely had to read the text to know what it said. With a low groan bubbling in her throat, Rukia sat upright and gathered her things, dropping her book and phone into her tote bag before donning her coat and heading across the room.

He was in the midst of talking with a group of girls, fake as ever smile plastered on his face as he listened to one of them go on about ‘How absolutely _amazing_ it was that they were interested in the same universities’. Rukia let her eyes roll in a full circle grimace before putting on her act.

Coming up beside him with possibly too much hysteria, Rukia latched onto his arm dramatically, letting her eyes go wide. “Toushiro, there's a student council emergency! We've gotta go stat!”

She was used to his blank stares, especially the displeased one that he was giving her now for being so over the top. He practically had it perfected because of her.

“An emergency? What happened?!”

Visibly bristling, Rukia’s owly eyes darted to the girls beside her, zeroing in on the most concerned looking one with the furrowed brow above her glasses. “Um…” She scratched her cheek dumbly. “The, uh, pet bunny has…cancer.”

“Oh no!” This girl was super dramatic. It grated on her nerves.

Rukia's clucked her tongue. “Yeah, it's terminal. The vet says he has no chance.”

“I didn't know the council had a pet bunny…”

It was another girl speaking this time but Rukia refused to look straight at her, choosing instead to stare off at the spaces between them and not try to pretend she was anything but socially challenged. “Yeah, it's so sad. Just got him a couple days ago and already…” Rukia raised her hands in a hopeless fashion. “He didn't even get to meet anyone outside the council. Bummer.”

“But _you're_ not on the council.” She didn't have to look at this girl to know she was cynical as shit.

“Well, I'm a privileged friend of the council, so…” What the hell was she spewing now? So much for her nonsocial replenishing. “Anyway, Toushiro and I must get going now, funeral planning and all that. Busy busy.”

She promptly pushed Toushiro along with her, leaving no time for either girl to comment further as they booted it out the door.

“Bunny funeral?” He said once they made it onto the sidewalk, his mouth quirked just slightly in amusement. “Really?”

“What d’you expect? I'm rusty.” The rain had since receded to a light sprinkle and Rukia proceeded down the street hoodless, routinely splashing the small puddles formed in the concrete. “And will you please stop using the phrase ‘I'm dying’ as a signal. It's rude to people with fatal illnesses.”

“I'll switch to the distressed face emoji if that’ll make you happy.”

Rukia scoffed. “You're so full of shit. Honestly, doesn't it get exhausting to pretend you actually like talking to all these people?”

He shrugged. “A bit. But if I plan on pursuing a career in business I've gotta get used to it.”

“Right. Well, next time you need me to bail you out of another social snag I’m charging a fee.”

“That's fair.” Running a hand through his hair, Toushiro stole a glance behind them. “Where's Rangiku?”

Rukia grimaced. “Disappeared with that creepy college bastard again.”

“Gin isn't _that_ bad.” She gave him a look. “Okay, maybe he sends shivers down my spine every time we meet, but Rangiku likes him. She's always been a good judge of character so he can't be all bad.”

“Love is blind.”

A loud and familiar voice faded into range then, and the dark haired girl groaned internally while the face of a former friend invaded her peripheral.

“Seriously, though,” Renji touted, beaming at his three companions, “we’re bloody unstoppable. I swear it, guys, we’re gonna beat those Espada bastards for sure this year.”

Hisagi’s warm laugh filled the air. “No doubt! Especially now that we’ve got our secret weapon back with us.”

“I missed _one_ game last year, guys.” She felt her throat dry at the sound of him, the lazy rasp in his voice matching that trademark scowl marring his face. “I’d hardly say I was gone long enough to ‘come back’.”

“You left us to the face the Espadas alone, my friend.” Renji said offhandedly. “You might as well have died.”

Within that moment it became apparent that Ichigo had stopped walking, as just a second later her entire left side collided against stiff muscle and sent her teetering on one foot, leaving her dangerously close to slipping on the wet sidewalk.

A calloused hand wrapped around her arm before any incident could take place, and she felt her cheeks sting with colour once she met a pair of surprisingly soft hazel eyes. He looked as though he’d just snapped out of a daze.

She blinked dumbly, her arm falling from his grasp as she steadied herself. “Sorry.”

He exhaled heavily. “Don't be, it's my fault. I was just…” He drifted off rather quickly, his forehead creasing as if suddenly troubled.

She nearly opened her mouth to speak.

“Oi, Kurosaki!”

The two of them glanced down the street to meet the questioning looks and raised hands of his friends, the one who beckoned undoubtedly the redhead. Rukia frowned on reflex.

“You coming, Rukia?”

She glanced at Toushiro then, who had stopped just a few paces ahead, giving him a quick nod before she turned back to Ichigo, whose unearthly frown had inevitably returned.

She simply smiled. “See you around.”

  
She felt his eyes linger on her back as she continued down the sidewalk, but she resisted looking back until they reached the corner. By that time, he was already out of sight.


	4. four

She was in the midst of baking, a wad of store bought cookie dough nearly in her mouth, when the intercom buzzed. It cut through the peaceful apartment with it’s always shrill ring, striking her eardrums with a start, and she immediately sighed, the dense exhale more of an annoyed grunt. Shoving the dough in her mouth with a justifiable amount of force, Rukia drug her feet across the hardwood floor towards the little box on the wall beside the door, wiping her hand on her sweatpants before jabbing a finger on the talk button.

“Yeah?” Her tone was rather neutral, her gums smacking together among the doughy remnants.

She was initially put to ease when the bubbly voice of one Matsumoto Rangiku sang through the speaker, “ _Rukiaaa~ We’re here~!”_

However, once it dawned on her the most probable reason they were here, she felt a groan bubble in her throat, escaping low and tired as she hung her head. She didn’t even bother to respond before buzzing them in, leaving the door unlocked while she returned to the kitchen.

She was shoving another spoonful of dough between her lips when her sudden company came bustling through the door, the shuffle of feet vacating shoes sounding from the entryway. She took a reinforcing breath as a vision of big blue-grey eyes and wavy strawberry-blonde hair flitted into her peripheral.

“You’re not even dressed yet!” Rangiku accosted, her voice hitched with astonishment. “There’s a difference between being fashionably late to a party and simply missing all the fun, Rukes. So chop chop, let’s go.”

“I don’t feel like going,” Rukia mumbled, slapping another ball of raw cookie on the pan.

Rangiku’s eyes grew wide and offended, a small gasp falling from her lips.

“Told you,” Toushiro deadpanned, settling in for the long haul as he slid onto one of the bar stools at the counter and nearly managed to steal a ball of cookie dough. Rukia swatted him with a spatula.

“Rukia, why do you insist on doing this to me?” Rangiku essentially whined, her tone that of a displeased mother. Rukia rolled her eyes. “C’mon, you love parties, remember?”

“Do I?”

And there was the pout, that simple little jut of her bottom lip that made Rukia’s heart swell immediately with guilt. “Please? Just for a little bit?”

Rukia pursed her lips stubbornly, one hand placed on her hip as the other fiddled needlessly with the unsymmetrical piles of cookie dough spread on the baking sheet before her. Rangiku’s pleading stare simply persisted in the loud silence.

“ _Ugh,_ fine.” Brightening instantly, the blonde clapped her hands together. Rukia cast her a steely glare. “I’ll go, but when I leave two hours later from inevitable social exhaustion, you’re not allowed to complain about it.”

Beaming, Rangiku zipped her lips with her thumb and forefinger, crossing her arms over her chest with an air of accomplishment while Rukia stomped off to her bedroom to change.

“You really haven’t changed at all since grade school,” Toushiro commented as he indulged in an abandoned unbaked cookie, once again reminded of his own fruitless attempts as a child to escape the blonde’s gregarious companionship.

Rangiku smirked proudly. “Just wait ‘til I get to college.

…

The sound of music and laughter filtered through the open windows of Hisagi’s two story home, correlating the cool night air with its youthful harmonies and effectively stopping Ichigo on the sidewalk.

He lingered there as if frozen stiff, slightly slouched and just a foot off from the short cobblestone path that would lead him to the front steps, into the house. It was exhausting even from a distance, the mere thought of interacting with people nearly making him cringe.

He wondered then why he even bothered.

“Promise not to ditch us this time, yeah?”

“No problem. You guys always ditch me first.”

Ichigo blinked, shooting a glance over his shoulder to regard the three familiar faces crossing the street and heading his way. His pulse quickened uncomfortably.

“That is just completely untrue.” Rangiku dismissed airily, checking her makeup in her compact mirror despite the fact she could barely see.

“It’s a little true,” Toushiro admitted.

Rukia grinned. “Ha!”

Feeling even more awkward and increasingly closed in on, Ichigo shuffled to the side, almost cloaking himself in the shadow of a nearby tree. He pulled his phone from his pocket out of habit and pretended he was busy.

“Hey.”

He glanced up, initially regarding the blonde and silver-haired duo as they continued on towards the house, their eyes meeting his for a quick and inquisitive moment before they disappeared inside. Rukia’s eyes were the most curious, however, and he tried not to look into them for too long.

He failed.

“Hey.”

She seemed to scan their surroundings then, her mouth curling at one corner as she did so, a pretty furrow appearing between her brows when she settled on him again.

“What, ah… Whatcha doin’ out here?”

He swallowed thickly, audibly. She raised a brow. “Er… Just, y’know…”

“Hiding?”

“What? No.” Ichigo cast an accidental glare at house in question. He frowned. “Okay, maybe.”

Rukia chuckled. “It’s not like I blame you. I was pretty well kidnapped.”

“‘Don’t suppose that’s difficult to do.” Ichigo considered outloud. She gave him an odd look. “You being a midget and all, I mean.”

She stiffened, her nose scrunching up immediately. “I’m not a midget, you tool.”

“Do they make exceptions for you at amusement parks, or do you have to ride with the kiddies?

“I will literally punch you in the face.”

He smirked. “Can you reach?”

“I can try,” she offered flatly.

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess it’s true what they say about tiny people and their anger,” he said airily, giving her an unsanctioned pat on the head. “Nowhere to keep it.”

Her cheeks flared, and she swatted his hand away with a huff, a coarse bout of words on the tip of her tongue.

“Rukiaaaaa~!” Her head snapped towards the house, her gaze falling on a first-floor window of which Rangiku was currently hanging out of. “C’mon, it’s time for shots!”

Rukia heaved a sigh, her perfect retort now lost. She spared him a now less hostile look. “Duty calls~” she droned, half turning towards the house. “Oh, but before I go…”

He didn’t have long to wonder why she drifted off mid-sentence, an abrupt shock of pain shooting up his leg almost as if he was just kicked in the shin.

“Did you just kick me?”

“Nope.” Spinning on her heel as if suddenly dismissing his entire existence, Rukia made her way onto the cobblestone path. “Bye.”

He stared after her in wonder, and despite the ache vibrating from the now forming bruise on his leg, he felt his eyes crinkle at the corners, his cheeks inflating with a grin.

“Hey!” He jogged to catch up with her just before she went inside, wincing only slightly. An uncommon eagerness swelled in his chest. “If you feel like leaving the party early, come find me, yeah?”

She stared at him, piercing him with full regard. After a moment she softened. “Okay.”

The house’s clamor of music and chatter hit them like a wave once they entered. Ichigo threw up the hood of his sweater in hopes of blending in.

“Ichigo!” A false hope as usual, however. He barely had time to process Hisagi bounding towards him before the guy had nearly toppled him over in a crash hug. “Dude, you made it!”

Ichigo stiffened, trying with all his might not to lose balance completely. “Y-Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I got off work early, so I figured–’

“Rukia!” Hisagi greeted happily and abrupt, lifting her completely off her feet as he encased her in a hug. “My baby~ How are you?!”

She coughed. “You smell like cheetos and vomit.”

“Good nose, Rukes,” he praised densely, setting her back on her feet. “Things have happened tonight, I’m not gonna pretend they didn’t. But no matter, I’m putting it behind me. Anyway, welcome to the party, _enjoy,_ try not to take my favourite sweater when you leave this time, so on and so forth.” He cast them both a toothy grin, “Catch ya later~”

Rukia merely waved in response to his finger gunned departure, while next to her Ichigo just shook his head.

“My friends are all idiots.”

“You fit right in then,” Rukia quipped, spinning on her heel to face him. “I should go find Ran before she has a fit.”

“Right. I should probably find Renji…” There was a delicate twist in her expression then. He barely caught it. “See you later?”

She simply nodded, and they parted ways with the comfort of having an escape plan in place.

…

She lasted just over the foreseen two hours before she was ready to go home. And she’d have been well on her way if not for whining strawberry-blonde latched onto her at the waist, muttering nonsense into the couch cushions while refusing to unwrap her arms from around her friend.

“You’re going home too,” Rukia informed her gently, patting the golden-red locks soothingly. “I already texted that creepy boyfriend of yours from your phone to come pick you up, like you told me to do before we came.”

Rangiku mumbled into the cushion. It was safe to assume she’d said something in defense of Gin.

“By the way, where’s Toush?” Rukia looked around for good measure. “I haven’t seen him in a while…”

“Probably taking advantage of some girl’s feelings for him somewhere,” Rangiku grumbled, lifting her head just long enough to be heard before letting it fall tirelessly on the cushion once again.

The dark-haired girl frowned, combing locks of hair from Rangiku’s face. “I swear you’re already half-drunk before we even get to these things."

The chime of the blonde’s phone sounded with the long awaited message.

“Okay, he’s here, let’s go.” With no lack of struggle, Rukia pulled Rangiku to her feet, acting as a crutch for the taller girl while they made for the front door, wading through the only slightly dwindled down crowd to get there. The most difficult part was actually getting the door open without someone falling.

He greeted them almost instantly, leaning lankily against the railing. “Hiya~”

The thing that bother her about Gin was his eyes. She found the way they were always barely open an untrustworthy factor.

“Hi,” she greeted flatly, not bothering to conceal her glower. Rangiku livened up only long enough to switch from Rukia’s support to Gin’s, resting her cheek on his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Here,” Rukia said sternly, holding out her friend’s phone. “Make sure she doesn’t lose this. I’ll be calling her in the morning to make sure she’s okay.”

Another thing that bothered her was the cheshire way he grinned. Like now. “Sure thing.”

She didn’t release him from her glare too soon, eyeing him carefully as he escorted her best friend down the cobblestone path and onwards to the car parked across the street.

“Don’t try anything funny!” She called after him. He merely waved, a half-committed flick of the wrist being her only reassurance.

Back inside the house, Rukia began her search for Ichigo, beginning in the kitchen where she acquired a plastic cup of water for herself. She took a large gulp as she continued through the house, hoping to hold off on her post-drinking queasiness until she got home.

She hugged her cup like a lifeline as she once again waded through the crowd of people, her eyes darting in all directions.

“Looking for someone?” She stopped, arching tensely at the shoulders. She did not have the energy for this. “Ichigo, perhaps?”

“None of your business,” she snapped, refusing to even look at him as she continued on. His presence persisted.

“‘Noticed you were getting a little chummy with my boy,” Renji muttered. “Hoped I was seeing things, though.”

Rukia groaned, turning more into a low gurgle at the base of her throat. “Please tell me you didn’t turn into the type of guy who calls his friends your ‘boys’.”

“Disappointed?” She rolled her eyes. “Not like it’s a new development, I used to call you my girl.”

“Did you, now?” She mocked. “Awfully insinuative, don’t you think? I was never ‘your girl’.”

“You were supposed to be.”

Her blood had gone hot, simmering uncomfortably in her veins and leaving her bristled. She gritted her teeth. “Yeah, well. I guess I was supposed to be a lot of things.”

His face fell slightly, gleaming with question, and she found herself recoiling from his proximity.

“We’re done here,” she told him firmly, letting her demeanor be as harsh as it pleased. “I’m going home.”

She strode down the hallway maybe too hastily, caught up in a bout of anxious flight and refusing to take a proper breath until she was out of the house and halfway down the street.

“Asshole…” she muttered in a low breath, taking another gulp of water from her cup and bracing herself for the journey home. Her t-shirt was beginning to stick.

“Rukia!”

She glanced behind her then, catching a flash of his bright orange hair first, his odd smile second, the sound his feet thumping fast and rough against the cement as he jogged towards her thrumming lightly in her ears. With the slightest flutter, she lingered.

He slowed to a stop just a foot before her, taking only a moment to catch his breath. “Where you runnin’ off to so quick?”

She faltered. “Just home. I, uh, couldn’t find you…”

His brow furrowed. “Really? You literally walked right past me on your way out.” Her face fell in a slow, chagrined manner. “I mean, it’s cool if you just wanna be alone or whatever. It’s just that you looked a little upset, so I thought I’d check on you first.”

“Right…” She ran a hand through her hair feverishly. “Sorry, I’m kind of dazed all the sudden.”

“More reason for me to walk you home.”

She laughed almost soundlessly, breathlessly. He looked at her, expectant, raising a brow over impossibly kind eyes. Only now did she really notice.

And somehow, it made her feel safe.

  
“...Okay.”


End file.
